The Fire Still Burns
by Ghostunderasheet
Summary: Learning Bending is hard. Even harder when no one in Omashu wants a Firebender around. So when the Avatar blows in, Zian hops on that flying ten ton bison with nothing but her wits and hope for the future. On the way she meets an angry prince, a freedom fighter, a stubborn cabbage merchant, and discovers that maybe her bending isn't so bad and she can have a real family after all.


**Please keep in mind, this is the PROLOGUE. It is therefore shorter and skipper than a real chapter would be. Sorry(?) about that, but it's going to get better. I just wanted to establish origin here. Read, review and ridicule!**

* * *

Zian was certain that it was hurting her. Denying one's bending was like denying a part of your own soul. But she had no reason to justify using it. No reason to take that risk. So she didn't, and she felt a part of her dying inside. Zian was scared shitless.

Bad enough that she had the golden eyes and pale complexion of a Fire Nation citizen when she was surrounded by the deep tans and smooth features of the Earth Kingdom, now she had to be different like this too? How was it fair that she had be be afraid and hide when all she had done was be _born?_ It had been one thing when she could hide.

While her mother was alive, she'd been able to surround herself with four walls, have a place to go back to, practice in secret with candles and breathing patterns. But she had faded away. And Zian understood that. Meing had only been holding on for the sake of her daughter, but despite her truly impressive wellspring of raw willpower she simply hadn't been strong enough. Zian had heard the whispers of her complicated birth and how it was her fault. She tried not to believe them. She didn't always succeed.

* * *

It was embarrassing how she got found out. Decades later, she'd look back on it and laugh for lack of a better reaction to the absurdity of it all. At the time though, she was much too frightened to do something as insane as laugh.

Zian sneezed. And a jet of fire roared out of her and lit a nearby fabric merchant's stand on fire. There was a single moment of unbroken stillness before the audible crackling of the flaming stand seemed to physically impact the entire street. People screamed, mothers clutched their children, guards charged and Zian fled.

But children cannot outrun an entire city. Zian never really had much hope of running away. Even if she had, where was there for her to go?

* * *

Zian only barely managed to catch herself on her hands and knees instead of faceplanting onto the harsh stone floor of the palace. Immediately she tried to stand but rough, large hands landed on her shoulders and suddenly she wasn't allowed any higher than her knees. Zian glared at her hands. If the shackles weren't so heavy, she'd lift her arms to wipe away her tears but since her entire forearms were encased in stone there was nothing she could do. The young girl bit her lip, trying not to cry.

Slowly she focused on her breathing. Steady breath in. Steady breath out. Repeat. There was nothing she could do, so there was nothing to worry about. She couldn't change the outcome of what was about to happen. Breath in. Breath out. People died every day. People younger, happier, luckier than her. What was one more loss to the world in the grand scheme of things anyway? In. Out. No one was left to miss her if she died anyway.

Zian was cuffed hard on the back of the head. "The King asked you a question, _Firebender!_ " And oh, how that word sounded like a curse. "Answer him!"

Uh-oh. Zian searched around wildly but there wasn't a single friendly face. The jaded, willful of her wasn't sure why she bothered. The other half was still just a scared little girl in search of help. Surprisingly though, the King looked at her differently than anyone else in the room.

Zian stared at the King. It felt like she was looking at _her_ instead of at the fire she wasn't even using - _refused_ to use. "I asked if you set the stall on fire in purpose," he said. His voice sounded old.

Zian shook her head. "I sneezed and it got away from me," she admitted.

"How old are you?"

"Six."

"Did you ever start fires before?"

Zian hesitated. Her mother had always told her to keep her bending a secret for obvious reasons. And here she was raised that way all her - admittedly short - life and expected to disobey her mother's memory? "No," she lied.

The king's reply was only to raise one incredibly bushy greyish white eyebrow.

"Only with candles," Zian mumbled in admittance. "And only with mom around to stop it."

"Her mother must be a Firebender too!" a guard concluded. "We must search the city and-"

Zian's rage took everyone by surprise, including herself. Her sudden strength sent her surging to her feet. "Don't you _dare_ talk bad about my mother!" she snarled. "She was the greatest ever!"

The guard recovered quickly. "That Fire Nation bitch-"

"My mother was an _Earthbender!"_ The torches around the room roared brighter as Zian yelled at the man. "And if she were here she'd _kick your ass!"_

"And your father?" the same guard pressed.

"Why would I need one of those?" Zian asked as disdainfully as she could manage, not quite hiding the longing behind her words from the eyes of the wise old king but succeeding well enough to fool the rest of the room, including herself.

"In that case," the King interrupted, his voice suddenly ringing with authority and prestige of his station in a way it hadn't before, "I see only one option."

Zian was, at this point, absolutely convinced that she was about to be executed. So she sucked in her gut, stuck up her chin despite the tears still drying on her cheeks and took stood as straight as she could with the weight of her fear upon her. "And what's that?" she demanded.

"You're just going to have to be a ward of the state since you've got no parents. You can stay with me from now on. I always wanted a kid."

"What?" Zian asked, confused.

"What?!" the guard demanded, enraged.

"What?" the king shrugged, "I can totally be responsible for a child."

"You're crazy, you- you geezer!"

"And you can call me _Uncle Boomy_ ," the mad King of Omashu laughed.

* * *

This was how the Firebending half breed came to live the life of the Princess of Omashu, belligerent pain in the entire city's collective backside and generally intentional troublemaker. When Zian asked what exactly a Princess was supposed to do, King Boomy declared that her job was to keep her mind open to the possibilities, keep her minders on their toes and keep her chin up. This was the total sum of the 'adult influence' she had on her life. In retrospect, it was a miracle that the city was still standing by the time the Avatar got there.


End file.
